


Be My Player Two

by jumpthisship



Series: Press Start To Play [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, definitely just an excuse for me to write makeouts, i wrote this on a 14-hour plane ride and it probably shows, i'm not even ashamed, mostly just fluffy romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 23:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpthisship/pseuds/jumpthisship
Summary: All things considered, everything turned out pretty fucking well, and the irony isn’t lost on Kyungsoo, that the worst thing that ever happened to him also resulted in the best thing that’s ever happened to him.





	Be My Player Two

**Author's Note:**

> I think I wrote this is response to Chanyeol wearing [this plastic tiara](http://ww3.sinaimg.cn/large/71b87a09gw1f3zt2ahs1qj20hs0qnafx.jpg) one time in 2016. No regrets. Also I just wanted these boys to have a nice time for once.

Sixteen years after Chanyeol lost his father—two years after beating Paran and meeting Kyungsoo—an old friend of Chanyeol’s mother loses her husband in a highway accident, leaving behind his wife and their young daughter. Kyungsoo hears all about it, because Chanyeol calls him as soon as he hears the news, heartbroken. He didn’t know the man or family very well, but Chanyeol knows loss, and if affects him all the same. 

They go to the funeral together, and Chanyeol cries. He’s down for a few days afterwards, and is extra clingy in the evenings at home, but he moves on. Kyungsoo, who never knew the family at all, is only as affected as any stranger, although the grief of losing someone is not unfamiliar to him.

The sadness fades, though, and they don’t talk about the death for over a month. Then, out of nowhere, Chanyeol is asked if he could spend time with the widow’s daughter, 7-year-old Dahee, because she remains sullen and confused after her father’s death. Chanyeol, who is a trusted family friend, who is endlessly friendly and optimistic, and who lost his own father at a similar age, is a perfect fit for someone who might be able to help her cope. Dahee reacts poorly to professional therapists and her mother doesn’t know what else to try. Chanyeol agrees instantly. 

He begins spending every Sunday afternoon with Dahee, while her mother goes to a widows’ therapy group. In the beginning, Chanyeol goes to her house to spend time with her, so Kyungsoo never sees her, but he gets weekly updates on her progress. 

“Dahee is really opening up, it makes me really happy,” he says one day, about three months after the accident. “I was braiding her hair today—”

“You know how to braid hair?” Kyungsoo interrupts to ask. This is new information to him. 

“Yeah, sure,” Chanyeol says with a distracted shrug. “Dahee says I do it better than her mom.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, although he continues to thinking about it. 

“Anyway. Dahee was telling me that she feels very lonely at school because none of her friends understand how she feels, so I told her about how _I_ felt when my dad died, and that seemed to help her, you know? I think it helped her make sense of what she was feeling, since I could put it into words better than she could, and I think it helped her to know it’s normal to feel like that, and that it gets better. I think we really bonded today. She’s doing a lot better than I did back then.”

Kyungsoo thinks about Chanyeol’s bright, happy eyes and the genuine pride in his voice, and the mental image of him braiding little girls’ hair, for a long time that night, because it’s so damn cute and Kyungsoo adores his boyfriend. He should have known Chanyeol would be great with kids, honestly. 

It actually sort of turns him on a little, in a roundabout way, but Kyungsoo sure as hell isn’t about to tell anyone that, especially not Chanyeol. He doesn’t need to know why Kyungsoo kisses him a little harder that night before bed. 

A while after that, Chanyeol starts taking Dahee out on Sundays instead of staying at her house. Kyungsoo isn’t invited along, but he hears all about their ice cream dates and trips to the park and the pretty dogs they pet. Kyungsoo thinks maybe Chanyeol tells him these stories because they basically make Kyungsoo want to ravish him, but then again, Chanyeol isn’t that perceptive. He just adores Dahee. 

“I was thinking we’d maybe come here next week, to paint? My therapist when I was a kid always asked me to express my feelings in pictures and stuff, I dunno,” Chanyeol says, stretching out on their bed. “Anyway, would you be okay with that? I don’t want you to think we’re kicking you out because we want to. I just want to be careful with introducing strangers into her life, because she’s pretty sensitive, and she’s reacted so badly in the past.”

Kyungsoo says yes, of course, and he makes Chanyeol promise to paint him something, but not before he kisses his boyfriend stupid. 

He gets his paintings that Sunday—a sloppy fruit bowl from Chanyeol, princesses from Dahee—and colouring pages the following week. They do papier-mâché crafts, clay sculpting, and make attempts at baking. Kyungsoo, who usually visits his family or friends during this time, always comes home for supper, an hour after Dahee gets picked up by her mom, to various surprises. 

The first time Kyungsoo actually meets Dahee, it’s unexpected. Admittedly, he gets home earlier than usual, when Jongin ditches him for a surprise date with Sehun. Still, it’s past 4:30, when Dahee usually goes home, so he just punches in the key code and walks in without bothering to announce his presence.

He walks into the kitchen to see Chanyeol sitting on the floor by the coffee table, wearing a plastic tiara with pink gemstones and faux fur at the base, tapping a small plastic wand against the saucer in front of him to make a clinking sound. “Your Majesty,” he says, over the sound of the Tangled soundtrack playing in the background. “Can I have another cup of tea?”

“You don’t call me ‘Your Majesty,’ Oppa, you’re the Princess,” says a tiny girl sitting across from him, her round glasses taking up most of her little face and a matching tiara on her black hair. She sips from her coffee mug primly. 

“Oh, right,” says Chanyeol, who’s angled away from Kyungsoo enough that he doesn’t notice him. “Should I call you Mom, then? Since you’re the Queen.”

Dahee giggles. “I’m not your mom, Oppa.”

“But I think that’s how it works,” Chanyeol says, adjusting his crown carefully. “Queens’ daughters are the princesses.”

“Oh.” Dahee squints. “Maybe you’re a different queen’s daughter.”

“That makes sense,” Chanyeol agrees. “So what should I call you, again?”

“You can just call me Queen,” Dahee says. “And yes, you can have another cup of tea.”

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says, breaking out into a huge grin, and Kyungsoo just _melts_. God, he loves this man, in his t-shirt and jeans with his wide shoulders and wild hair, with his little sparkly tiara and his little sparkly wand, looking at this tiny girl like she’s the most precious thing to grace this earth. Kyungsoo almost walks over to kiss him right then and there, but somehow, he refrains. 

“Oh, Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol says, noticing him suddenly. “You’re home!”

“I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Kyungsoo says, biting back a smile. Then, quickly, he adds a bow and, “Your Majesty.”

Dahee giggles, hiding behind her cup, and Chanyeol _beams._ The whole room is glowing. 

“Dahee’s mom called to say she’d be a little late, so we decided to have tea,” Chanyeol explains. “Join us?”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says, because he’d be crazy to pass up an opportunity like this. 

“Is this your prince, Oppa?” Dahee asks, peeking at Kyungsoo as he sits down adjacent to them. 

“Oh, no,” Chanyeol says, and for a moment Kyungsoo is shocked, but then Chanyeol stage-whispers, “He’s the brave warrior I’m trying to woo. He saved me once, and now I need him to ask my hand in marriage, but I’m too shy to tell him so.”

Kyungsoo laughs, and Dahee giggles delightedly before whispering back, “Oppa, why don’t you ask him instead? Princesses can be very brave, too.”

“I agree, Queen. But I’m only brave in other things,” Chanyeol says, and he throws a wink in Kyungsoo’s direction, and suddenly Kyungsoo wonders how much of that he actually meant. 

They sip orange juice from coffee mugs and talk princesses and royal politics for the next half hour, until Dahee’s mother comes to pick her up. She beams, almost tearful, when she sees Dahee carefully lifting Chanyeol’s crown off his head and kissing his cheek, and Kyungsoo knows that feel. 

When Dahee and her mother finally go, the door is barely closed behind them before Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol in by the front of his shirt to kiss him square on the mouth, firm and just long enough that Chanyeol is stunned breathless when he pulls away. 

“Uh,” Chanyeol says. “Hi.”

Kyungsoo has to grin. “You are so fucking cute sometimes,” he says, pulling his boyfriend an inch closer. 

Chanyeol’s eyes flick to his lips and back up. “Is that a general statement or are you talking about right now?”

Kyungsoo snorts and doesn’t bother to clarify, instead leaning back in and up to kiss him again, longer this time, letting their lips slide together, letting Chanyeol and himself fall into it in equal parts. It’s not that often that Kyungsoo initiates makeout sessions in the middle of the day, but Chanyeol is always 100% willing and ready to go when he does. 

Except right now, apparently, or maybe he’s just dumb, because Chanyeol pulls back after a few moments to whisper, “Do you want to go out for dinner today? Or order in?”

Kyungsoo reaches up to pull on Chanyeol’s earlobe. “I’d rather just make out with you for a few hours.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, swallowing visibly. “Okay.”

“So stop talking,” Kyungsoo whispers, and brings their mouths together for a third time. 

This time, finally, Chanyeol puts his all into it. His hands, previously hovering uselessly, move to close around Kyungsoo’s waist and tangle in his hair. He licks at Kyungsoo’s lower lip as he walks them both to the nearest wall, pressing Kyungsoo’s back gently up against it, nudges until Kyungsoo gives in and lets their tongues slide together slickly. Kyungsoo fists his hands in the back of his boyfriend’s shirt and holds him close, as close as possible, as close as he always wanted to when they were stuck in a video game and didn’t know how things would turn out. 

All things considered, they turned out pretty fucking well, and the irony isn’t lost on Kyungsoo, that the worst thing that ever happened to him also resulted in the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

Chanyeol’s hand moves up and down Kyungsoo’s side over his shirt, high enough on the upstroke for his thumb to brush his nipple through the fabric, and Kyungsoo shudders, trapped between the wall and Chanyeol’s solid body. He nips at Chanyeol’s lip one last time before whispering, “Bedroom.”

Chanyeol pushes his nose into Kyungsoo’s cheek and clenches the hand in his hair. “To make out?” he asks against Kyungsoo’s skin, and his voice is low enough that Kyungsoo shivers. 

“We’ll see,” he says, and pushes Chanyeol in the direction of the door. 

By the time they get to their room, their lips are red and their breaths are coming hard. Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol gently onto the bed and climbs up after him, his knees on either side of Chanyeol’s thighs. Chanyeol leans back with the force of Kyungsoo’s next kiss, chuckling softly, and slides his hands up under Kyungsoo’s shirt to start lifting it off. Kyungsoo makes a vague noise of assent, but before Chanyeol can get it all the way off Kyungsoo is moving his lips to his boyfriend’s throat and sucking a mark there. 

“Ah,” Chanyeol says, soft and desperate, and that’s exactly why Kyungsoo does it. Chanyeol is especially sensitive there at his neck (and his stomach and under his arms), and Kyungsoo knows how to exploit it. Kyungsoo is nothing if not a methodical lover. “Soo,” Chanyeol groans as Kyungsoo pulls away, and Kyungsoo grins as he presses a kiss to the blossoming bruise. 

Kyungsoo’s not the only one that has learned something in the past two years of being together, though, and it shows as Chanyeol peels his shirt the rest of the way off and kisses down the center of his chest, warm hands firm on the sides of his ribcage, pausing to breathe hotly on one nipple (knowing by now that Kyungsoo is more of a chest-ass-thighs person). Kyungsoo squirms and hisses, tugging Chanyeol up by the hair to kiss him sloppily. 

Chanyeol’s shirt comes off a minute later, so Kyungsoo can run his palms all over his broad shoulders and back, mouthing up his bicep, biting gently into the soft skin there and dragging his tongue up visible veins more because Chanyeol likes it than because Kyungsoo is all that impressed by them. Chanyeol makes quiet sounds in the back of his throat, fingertips digging into Kyungsoo’s back, and Kyungsoo feels overwhelmed with all the places he wants to touch him. 

Eventually, though, Chanyeol seems to grow tired of bearing Kyungsoo’s weight against him and lies down across their mattress, their kisses growing slow and languid as their mouths get sore and clumsy. Chanyeol scratches lightly at the back of Kyungsoo’s scalp, just the way he likes it, and Kyungsoo shivers with pleasure and waves of affection. “Babe,” he whispers.

Chanyeol makes a small sound, between a whimper and a groan. Kyungsoo rarely uses pet names, and this particular one he uses especially infrequently, on purpose, to keep it special. He likes the full-body reaction it gets from Chanyeol every time, and he employs it in moments of great pleasure or emotion to keep it that way. 

“Baby,” he murmurs again, just for good measure, feeling their hearts thump together against their ribs, warm skin pressed against warm skin all along their torsos. Chanyeol pushes up to kiss him again. “We’re going to get married one day, right?”

Chanyeol stills beneath him, and his heartbeat grows erratic. “What?”

Kyungsoo swallows hard, blood rushing through his veins as he draws patterns on Chanyeol’s skin with the tip of his finger, their foreheads pressed together. “I just mean. We’re on the same page about that, right?” He shifts to press his cheek to Chanyeol’s, closes his eyes. 

“Where did this come from?” Chanyeol asks, his voice soft and just a little shaky. 

Kyungsoo shrugs, squeezing nervous fingers around Chanyeol’s shoulder. He honestly doesn’t know. It just sort of came out. “I just love you a lot, that’s all.” He squirms to rest his cheek on Chanyeol’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as it speeds along. “I was just thinking we could do it in Joonmyun’s parents’ backyard, you know, there by the fountain. Just our families and close friends, and fuck everyone else who we don’t really care about. And we can wear our nice suits, and my brother can be my best man and your sister can be your best woman, and afterwards we can just have like a pizza party or something. And there’ll be music so Sehunnie and Jonginnie can slow dance, and we can go to a nice-ish hotel and have lots of wedding night sex. And...yeah. That’s what I was thinking.”

Chanyeol swallows audibly beneath him, his hand sweeping up his back to curl in Kyungsoo’s hair. “Are you proposing to me right now?”

Kyungsoo shrugs again, kissing his shoulder gently, heart racing. “I don’t know. Maybe. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing for proposing to me?” Chanyeol asks incredulously, a note of hysteria edging into his voice. 

“I don’t know. There’s no ring and it was unplanned and unromantic and you probably wanted to do it. If you were even thinking about it,” Kyungsoo adds, suddenly miserable. Way to fuck up something amazing.

But Chanyeol—sweet, earnest Chanyeol—just says, “I’m always thinking about it. Every day.” 

Kyungsoo breathes out a sigh of relief, leaning up to kiss Chanyeol once, a firm press of lips, before lying against him again. “You’re incredible, did you know that?”

Chanyeol laughs, bashful but pleased. “I like all your ideas,” he says, rubbing a thumb along the back of Kyungsoo’s arm. 

“Good. I’m glad,” Kyungsoo says, blinking his eyes quickly before something embarrassing happens. He’s not going to cry. That would be stupid. 

“I’ll spring a cheesy proposal on you yet, though. There will be a ring.” There’s a smile in Chanyeol’s voice, and love wells up in Kyungsoo’s chest. 

“Just get me a cheap one. I don’t care. Precious metals are overrated.” 

Chanyeol laughs. “That was the plan. Save all our money for the honeymoon.”

“I was thinking Europe,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Very romantic,” Chanyeol agrees. 

“We’ll share spaghetti in Italy and have sex under the stars in France.”

Chanyeol snorts. “You know how to woo a man.”

Kyungsoo grins against his skin. “Gotta snatch this princess up before some prince realizes what a catch she is.”

Chanyeol’s hum is warm and full of humour. “This princess already has the Queen’s blessing to marry someone. She was just waiting for the right person to ask.”

“And did he?” Kyungsoo asks, eyelids growing heavy with sleepiness, even though it’s barely 5:30. 

“He did,” Chanyeol whispers, and Kyungsoo can feel his smile against his lips when they kiss.


End file.
